Mind Games
by Paladone
Summary: Two months have passed since the cell game, and the Z-fighters have entered a celebration tournament. But a new, unknown threat hovers above the planet, and an agent is inside the tournament. Pg-13 for violence/swearing


Disclaimer: The usual   
  
Notes: Yeah, I've been away for a while, and no, this isn't a new chapter to my other story. To be completely honest, I'm out of ideas for the story, and have decided to let it sit for a while. I geuss you can consider this a re-make of the Earthling Saga, except a good deal more thought out, and with a far more plausible story. I still wince at my original chapter. Gohan: "Sorry kururin, I have something, ah, important to tend to. Later!" *shudder* No, I'm kinda focusing on everyone now, to the best of my ability. This, for those who can't figure it out, takes place shortly after the Cell Saga. Oh yeah, kudos to anyone who locates the hidden pun. Oh, and please read my note at the bottom, it's important to me that you do.   
  
King Chapa: A fighter from dragonball, he was beaten by Goku in the elimination rounds of the 22nd and 23rd budokai's.   
  
Chapter 1: The Tournament, Ground Zero   
  
  
**"Seiiitttt!!!!" BAM! **   
  
The giant crumpled to the floor, as the experienced fighter landed a final solid chop on his neck. "Winner, #45. #45 advances to the final elimination round!"   
  
King Chapa, a muscular figure dressed in white, bowed formally, a small smile playing on his lips. Age had grayed his deep black hair, and taken some of the bite out of his attack. However, it had given him valuable experience, and his ability to read his opponents had improved tremendously, far so than even he could predict.   
  
Yeah, this fighter's the REAL champion of the world.   
  
He had attened 10 local tournaments and a few larger ones in the last few years, and in most cases, he won without difficulty. Despite the chaos of 2 months ago, life was returning to normal, and he maintained concentration. Once, he attempted to master Bujitsu (the air dance, or flying), but he could not quite grasp the idea of "controlling of his ki." He was told that the World Champion, Mr. Satan, had such talent, but Chapa dismissed the idea. _(It's probably a myth anyway. No one's talented enough to fly, not even me.)_   
  
Incidentally, he was one of very few people in the entire land to not trust Mr. Satan. Though he couldn't tell who had won or how, the lack of pain or even minimal concern in that monster during Satan's 'brutal attack', not to mention that the man'tripped' into a mountain, was enough to convince him that someone else must have won the fight. And he could've sworn he'd met some of those other fighters before. _(No matter.)_   
  
Chapa stood near the edge of the ring and waited for his next fight to begin. This tournament, one very similar to the Tenkaichi Budokai (World Marital Arts Tournament), was held in honor of Mr. Satan. While he would not be directly involved, Mr. Satan would judge the fights. Chapa smirked, _(Oh, if only I could have a shot at him)_....   
  
Chapa glanced with little interest as the more fighters entered. "Yamcha vs. Chel Zen" the board said. Chapa turned his back to them, examining some of the other fighters in the room. "BEGIN!"   
  
**DONK!__** SwiiiiIISH!**_ cRaSH!_**   
  
Chapa spun around. Gasps eminated from around the room. Chel Zen, a well-known fighter, known for his ungodly stamina and ability to ignore pain, lay in a crumpled heap below the ring, clutching his chest. A foolish expression abided on his face. The other fighter, a tall, muscular man with jet-black hair and a scar on his face, looked rather abashed, hand still raised in a punch. "Er...sorry there. Haven't done this in a while..."   
  
_(OF COURSE! Yamcha, one of the students of Mutenroshi. He's been in the quarter-finals of the budokai 3 times!)_ Chapa calmed himself, trying to erase the still embarassing memories of his humiliation at the hands of that boy...   
  
But this was different. He had YEARS of experience, he could take Yamcha out easily, if his memory served him well. Yamcha never made it PAST the quarter-finals....   
  
"#45 and #63, please report to the center ring for the final elimination round."   
  
Chapa's eyes snapped to attention. _Those fights certainly didn't take too long.)__ He passed through the crowded hallway, delighted as the other menial fighters noticed his calm, serene figure, and made a path for him. But a few faces were not poised in his direction. Strange faces. One was bald and lacked a nose. Another appeared to have 3 eyes. ONe made even he shiver, a face that looked much like the demon-lord Piccolo. __(Oh, stop your nonsense. Piccolo was killed long ago. Focus on the match. _ As he stepped onto the ring, he began to study his opponent, and relaxed slightly. _ Can't be more than 11. Easy fight._   
  
Chapa caught himself there though. _The boy has to have some skill, or he wouldn't make it this far._ Closer examination revealed well toned muscles, a solid figure, and a calm, almost pleasant face. He was dressed in an orange fighting gi, with a blue undershirt, blue cuffs, and blue boots with laces. For some reason, the dress of the boy was oddly familiar, but Chapa was too distracted to recognize the obvious resemblance to the boy, Goku. "Fighters, take your places!" _ I've made the mistake of underestimating age and size before._   
  
"Good luck, Son Gohan!"   
  
_Son Gohan?_Chapa glanced at the speaker. Yamcha. "The others are waiting for us!" He grinned, "I'm sure you'll have a WHOLE lot of trouble, but we have lunch reserved, so.."   
  
Gohan smiled, "Ok, I'll finish this as quickly as I can."   
  
_Right you will!_ How dare they talk this way in front of him, KING Chapa, as though he had already lost the fight. However, a hauntingly familiar radiance seemed to eminate from the boy, an aura that...   
  
"BEGIN!"   
  
Stretching his left leg outward, the fighter raised his arms in the tried and true fighting position he had adopted long ago. He cleared his mind of all thoughts, and exhaled slowly, relaxing his muscles. Adjust the stance a little. Damn itch, scratch scratch. Hupp! Ok. Ready.   
  
The boy just stood there, not moving a muscle. _He actually has a little SMILE on his face! Is he mocking ME? _   
  
"So, you must think your pretty good to make it this far in a tournament, eh kid?"   
  
Gohan's eyebrow rose a little, "No, not really. My other friends made it without difficulty. Really, can you attack now? Kururin has lunch reserva-"   
  
Chapa snarled, letting his temper take over for a second. "I don't think you understand what you're getting into! How dare you treat ME, KING chapa, like--like--a"   
  
He exhaled outward, then smirked, "You're trying to make me lose my temper, eh? Ain't gonna work, boy."   
  
The young boy looked confused, "No...I just want to finish this and go to lunch, I'm hungry..."   
  
"SHUT UP! You're almost as infuriating as...as...that, boy Goku."   
  
The smile slid from Gohan's face. "Did you say Goku? Son Goku?"   
  
Chapa snarled, "Yes. The bastard is the only blemish in my entire career, I'm fully convinced he cheated during those fights! He probably drugged me before the fight!" Then, a sudden, terrible thought occured to him, "You...look a lot like him."   
  
Yamcha suddenly laughed from the sidelines, "I remember you! Goku fought you in the elimination rounds of the Budokai. Wow, was that a pathetic match."   
  
Grrr, how DARE he! Other fighter's are laughing! "PATHETIC!!???? Oh, you insolent little..."   
  
Gohan's eyes narrowed slightly, then relaxed, "Excuse me, I think you're mistaken sir. My father would never have cheated in a fight."   
  
Yamcha snickered from the sidelines, while Chapa simply froze, arrogance and anger melting into terror. _His SON? I'm fighting his SON?_   
  
"This is stupid, hurry up boy! Even I get hungry on occasion!" Another person from the sidelines, one with a ridiculous haircut at that. What is with these people, interrupting his match?   
  
Gohan started to look irritated. "On occasion? Sorry, but this guy apparently knew my dad. Go ahead, Vegeta, we got you a separate table with Piccolo, so you wouldn't try to kill Kururin again when the meat isn't rare enough."   
  
The grumpy man snarled, "They won't let me eat unless someone pays in advance. It's not like I hurt baldy or that pathetic 'waiter' that badly.....   
  
_I know I can defeat this boy. He's younger than Goku was, and far less experienced. My technique and strength can overpower him! I won't be haunted by that blasted tournament any more! I am KING CHAPA!!_ Chapa raised his arms in the classic Dragon's Fist stance, and jumped, propelling himself into the air. "TOooooooh!!!!"   
  
Gohan was still arguing with Vegeta as Chapa flew toward's him.   
  
"But Vegeta, they didn't even COOK the meat!"   
  
"It was warm! And it wasn't fresh! Bakayaro, don't make me come up there!"   
  
Chapa raised his arm, and slashed downward at the boy's neck. A perfect, flawless chop.   
  
"Oh shut up, you know I could-"   
  
Gohan stepped back, still glaring at Vegeta, and kicked chapa square in the stomach. Rather hard, too.   
  
  
Kururin looked up from the menu, "So those explosions were Chapa flying through the walls?"   
  
Yamcha laughed, "Yeah. Never thought I'd see him again. He'd improved so much, too."   
  
Even Tien could hardly conceal his laughter, "Blew through every building. Chao-zu thought a bomb went off!"   
  
Gohan huddled in his seat, poring through the menu, turning beet red. "I didn't mean to hit him so hard. Vegeta just kept arguing about his meat. God, I hope the poor guy wasn't hurt too badly."   
  
Kururin chuckled, then looked around. "The bastard deserved it. He was always an arrogant and overconfident fighter. Well, no one really had any problems in there. Chao-zu decided not to enter, I don't think he really enjoys fighting any more."   
  
Vegeta chuckled from the other table, where he sat with Piccolo. That corner of the restaurant was abandoned, strangely enough. "Little shrimp couldn't even handle the pathetic rabble here?"   
  
Tien glared at Vegeta, "Chao-zu could take a whole army on by himself, you bastard. Maybe he just doesn't value fighting over everything else."   
  
The prince smirked, but was distracted at the sight of his meal. Piccolo said nothing, but shot a warning glance at Vegeta before he turned to eating his rather large salad. (I've never seen him eat, so I'm assuming he's a vegetarian like other Nameks) The others resumed talking amongst themselves and eating, until Gohan looked up from his 6th bowl of fried rice. "Mmmph...weren't Bulma, Trunks, Oolang, Puar, and my mom supposed to be here?"   
  
Yamcha raised his voice, "They were a tad SCARED that a CERTAIN saiyan would try to blow down the walls AGAIN. Bulma didn't want the baby hurt."   
  
Yamcha glared at Vegeta while the others suddenly found themselves fascinated with their food. Gohan groaned internally, _Idiot. Had to bring this up again, didn't you?_ Vegeta remained unphased, "Save your strength, weakling. You'll need all you can get. Lord knows my newborn brat could beat YOU up."   
  
Tien choked on his beer slightly. Yamcha sneered, "Don't be so confident, asshole. I haven't been moping around like you for the last two months, refusing to admit that for as long as he was alive, Goku was stronger than-"   
  
The chair crashed to the floor, and Vegeta rose, enraged. "How dare you, you miserable earthling. I am the prince, a Saiyan Elite. Even without my Super Saiyan form, you are nothing compared to me!   
  
"You're evading the question. You can't admit you've lost, can you?"   
  
"By now I have far surpassed Kakarot, *smirk* and at least I have enough strength to keep a mate!"   
  
Yamcha rose now, hatred written all over his face. "I'll never understand what she sees in such a selfish and UGLY asshole like you! Murderers like you have no reason to exist, I CAN'T understand why she lets you use her."   
  
Vegeta growled low, "You go too far, fool. I did not use her. She chased me, hounded me, followed me wherever I went. I slowly realized what she was doing, and saw the utter importance of her very being. She was neccessary to maintain the royal line, though imperfectly. Aside from Kakarot's halfling brat here, I am the only one left. Indeed, in an indirect way, she and I saved your miserable planet."   
  
"And you. You have no such purpose, such importance. Since I have ever known you, you were nothing but garbage, baggage, absolutely useless in a fight. These stupid friends of yours risked everything they owned in an impossible battle, all to ressurect you, for reasons I cannot understand. Bulma once loved you, fool, and you never took the opportunity, so I did instead. Well, her love is gone. It's over. You've been nothing but a burden to these people. You are worthless, desert bandit. You are nothing, Yamcha."   
  
And without another word, Vegeta turned his back and walked out of the restuarant.   
  
Yamcha stood there, a dazed, empty look in his eyes. Slowly, arms hanging limp, he made his way out of the restaurant, by now long silent.   
  
Suddenly, the loudspeaker flared to life. "All quarter-finalists please report to the center room for match-ups."   
  
Tien slowly stood up, face dead serious. "We should go now. Chao-zu and the others have front row seats, so they'll be there for sure."   
  
Kururin picked at his food, "But what about Yamcha? He's fighting too!"   
  
Piccolo raised his head for the first time. "Yamcha will come. One way or another. In MY memory, he has never shied away from a fight, no matter how hopeless. He faught Kami himself, when he wasn't even half as strong." Piccolo too made his way out of the restaurant.   
  
The others followed, silently. Gohan followed, head lowered. _What would dad do? I can't let Vegeta ruin Yamcha like this. But what CAN I do?_   
  
  
It looked like the fighters had left. At least he hoped so. Slowly, he shut off his communicator, with a light click. They should've heard everything.   
  
He hated espionage, wasn't suited for it at all. If what he'd heard about Vegeta was right, the Saiyan could blast him into nothingness. Blast it all, he was supposed to be organizing the troops, not risking his own skin.   
  
Toriz wasn't sure which would be worse, staying here or reporting back. The news was not acceptable. The master should already know by now, and would likely kill him in a rage when he returned. But what else could he do? Son Goku, apparently, was already dead.   
  
Toriz stood up, and dusted himself off. He was am elite commander, one of the last survivors of the army of Freeza. He resembled in many ways a wolf, and was almost as clever. Unlike most soldiers, he had no need of Saiyan armor; his tough fur coat was just as strong as any armor. Due to the variety of races attending the tournament, he cer- tainly didn't appear out of place. His fighting strength certainly wasn't anything to scoff at either.   
  
A power level of 12,000 could easily match one of the legendary Saiyans. But god almighty he didn't want to fight them. And he was a quarter-finalist in the tournament.   
  
His mission was to find Goku, who had returned to earth, and apparently conquered Freeza and King Cold for good. Rumors of another creature by the name of Cell were quite numerous, but apprently he had been conquered by Mr. Satan, whom Turiz had already dismissed. His power level was pathetic.   
  
But he knew Goku, or Kakarot, was dead by now. The human had let it slip, and that was all the info he needed. And it would probably get him killed, commander or no commander. Turiz sighed, maybe he could find a suitable alternative. Vegeta mentioned that he too had reached Super Saiyan. Of course, he would have to fight him in order to figure this out, which would, in turn, most likely cost him his life. But transporting back would have the same result.   
  
He was light years away from help, too. The others were attempting to subdue another planet. And here was his trump card for survival. If he could attain Vegeta without dying, the rest of the planet could easily be conquered. The decent atmosphere and bountiful nutrients would make a suitable new home. If he didn't get killed.   
  
The creature slowly made his way to the hall, passing through the primitive holes these humans called doors. _Looks like someone just blasted through them. How pathetic._   
  
  
  
_To Be Continued...._   
  
The stage is set. Who is this 'boss' of Toriz', and what danger does he represent? (hint hint, a lot) What will happen to Yamcha? What will happen in the Tournament? Stay tuned.   
  
Note: This is, in a sense, an apology for my absence, which has gone unexplained. Well, two things kept me from writing, and the internet period. A)My modem was shocked in a storm or something, because it broke completely. Yup, wouldn't dial no more. The guy only repaired it a couple days ago, on the 20th of September. B) I've been trying to help one of my best friends through a rather rough period of his life, due to the little INCIDENT on the 11th. He's moving away to California, to live with his uncle.   
  
I tell you, it really made me thankful for having my family around me, even when my parents bitch at me. This world, in my opinion would be a much better place without whoever was responsible for such a cowardly attack *cough*BinLadenAndHisBitches*cough*. If anyone wishes to argue with me that what they did was justified, find me on MSN. I'll show you one hell of a bad time.   
  
Yes, I am pissed. But I feel better. Anyway, see you in a couple weeks! 


End file.
